Boys Will Be Boys
by 2Old4This2
Summary: Set shortly after the destruction of the first Death Star. Han Solo and Wedge Antilles have a few drinks and discuss who's a better pilot. A contest is planned, with a healthy amount of wagering among the Rogues. The outcome, however, is not what anyone expects.
1. Chapter 1

**Boys Will Be Boys**

A _Star_ _Wars_ Fan Fiction

_Chapter One_

"You're out of your mind! There's no way you can do that in your ship!"

"I can do it, just watch me!"

"The odds are—" Wedge Antilles stopped, as if just realizing to whom he was speaking.

"Never tell me the odds!" The exclamation came out as a snarl as Han Solo glared at the other Corellian. Chewbacca towered behind him, hands on his hips. He snarled, too. No one insulted the _Millennium Falcon _or its pilot. Ever.

Wedge snarled back. Not that he was offended by the pair of smugglers—secretly he was amused—but snarling seemed to be the thing to do in this particular situation.

Surrounding the two combatants was a motley collection of Rogue squadron pilots and mechanics, assorted clerks and logistics personnel, and, of course, Luke Skywalker and Chewbacca. They were all gathered in what served as Yavin 4's officers' club. This was the one place on the base where intoxicating beverages flowed freely—and it certainly wasn't restricted to officers. What fun would that be?

"C'mon, Solo," Wedge continued in a more reasonable tone, "you know you can't pull off this kind of a maneuver in that clumsy freighter of yours." So much for behaving reasonably; Wedge couldn't resist taunting the other pilot. "In order to loop the tower, you need an agile ship like an X-wing."

A chorus of affirmatives, along with a few taunts, rose up from the Rogues in the crowd. A few of the non-flight personnel voiced their agreement, as well.

"All you need is a halfway decent pilot," Han responded, "which, unfortunately, you don't seem to have any of." He tossed back the remainder of his Corellian ale in one quick motion. Chewie, still standing behind him, rumbled like a reactor core reaching critical mass.

Luke, far back in the crowd, looked at his friends' faces. _Uh oh, _he thought, _this could end badly._

"Wedge?" Wes Janson stepped forward. "Are you going to let that freighter jockey talk about the Rogues that way?"

"No one talks about the Rogues that way!" Wedge finished what was left of _his _Corellian ale. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. "Take that back, Solo," he demanded.

"Sure." Han slanted a smile in his direction. "l take it back. I shouldn't embarrass your squadron in public that way." Chewie pulled his lips back and coughed out a warbling Wookiee chuckle.

The room exploded in an unsavory mélange of shouts, insults and catcalls. Several of the more intoxicated Rogues started forward, ready to inflict grave bodily injury on Solo. In their rage, they seemed to have forgotten that Han's copilot was a two-meter tall Wookiee who was currently growling low in his throat. They were held back by their more sober companions.

Enough was enough, Luke thought. He stepped between Janson and Hobbie, both of whom were yelling incomprehensible insults in Han's direction, and pounded his fist on the bar.

"Okay!" he yelled. "That's enough! I'm your commander and I order you to knock it off!"

Unfortunately, only Han heard Luke's command. The Corellian paused halfway through his second ale to smile reassuringly at the younger man.

"Don't worry, kid," he said, his words slurring slightly. Maybe he was on his third ale? Han wasn't sure. "I won't let anything happen to one of your little playmates." His innocent, placating smile was neither.

The shouts and insults flying through the room grew louder and uglier.

"Hey!" Luke objected. "They're not playmates! They're pilots." The young man paused, not sure what to say next. Helpfully, Hobbie handed him a glass of…something. Luke didn't care what it was; he downed it in one gulp, coughed until his eyes watered, then pulled himself up to his full height in front of Han. "They're the best _kriffing _pilots in the known galaxy," he continued grandly, looking up into his friend's face, "maybe the unknown galaxy too. I don't know." Luke was pretty sure that hadn't come out right, but he didn't care. He reached out and took the bottle Hobbie now offered him and drank deeply. This time he didn't cough. "You couldn't beat the worst of them." He took another drink, just to wet his throat. The room tilted hard to port, then righted itself. "You're just a coward."

Suddenly the room was silent, except for Chewbacca's menacing howl. The beings nearest Luke pulled cautiously back.

"No, it's alright, Chewie." Han placed a hand firmly in the middle of the Wookiee's chest, holding him back. "I can handle this." He advanced on Luke. "You think I'm a coward?" His soft words cut through the silence like a vibroblade, with no trace of a slur. "Just 'cause I don't wear your fancy uniform or fly with your _special _pilots? No one calls me a coward." Han emphasized each of these last six words with sharp pokes in Luke's chest.

Luke swallowed. What in the nine hells had made him call Han Solo a coward? Luke knew that was the last thing his friend was. His _friend! _It had to have been whatever it was he'd been drinking. "Han," he began, groping wildly for way to take back what he'd said.

"Luke, you can't back down now!" Dak's young voice called from the back of the crowd.

"Maybe he should," Zev answered him quietly. "Solo's no coward; it was a stupid thing to say."

Wedge stepped forward, his dark eyes flicking back and forth between Luke and Han. "This has nothing to do with anything except flying," he told them. "Tempers just got a little hot, that's all."

There was no noise at all except for Han's rapid breathing and Chewbacca's soft snarls. Luke didn't appear to be breathing at all.

"Fine." The hard lines in Solo's face cracked to normalcy. His off-center grin reappeared. "Let the kid prove it. Looping the tower."

A cacophony of shouts—and laughter—filled the small room. Luke smiled in relief, and took a deep breath.

"I'm going to beat you, you know," he informed Han.

"Sure you are, kid."

"You bet I—" Luke's face suddenly turned ashy gray, he stumbled forward a few steps, and was violently—and messily—sick all over his own boots. He staggered to an empty chair and dropped down into it, his head in his hands.

"Or maybe you aren't going to beat me," Han said sagely. He looked at the gathered crowd of pilots. "So, do I win by forfeit?"

"No!"

"No way you can beat a Rogue!"

"Not in that hunk of junk!"

"Wedge, you aren't going to let him get away with this!"

Antilles raised his voice to a roar in order to be heard over the pandemonium. "No," he shouted, "no one insults the Rogues. I'll fly against him and that heap of rust he calls a ship." His broad grin was diabolical. "With one condition."

Solo's hazel eyes were hard. "Name it."

"You fly alone, no copilot."

Chewbacca roared in dissent.

"Wait a minute," Luke said weakly from his seat. Flying the _Falcon_, especially with the precision needed to loop the tower, was a two being job.

"Fine," Han said. "Just me and the _Falcon_."

An enthusiastic cheer rose from the watching crowd.

"Who wants to put credits down on it?" Janson shouted. He raised a fistful of his own money high over his head. Around him, people checked their pockets and credits were passed forward. Odds were quoted, differing outcomes were discussed. The droid bartender provided an empty bowl for the growing pile of credits and other tokens.

"I'll put up a hundred."

Janson's hand froze as the room grew suddenly silent. Carlist Rieekan stepped forward from a far corner of the club, a smile on his face.

"Sir?" Janson said nervously.

"Sir. We've just been discussing the relative merits of fighters versus larger ships, sir," Wedge spoke quickly, but with authority.

"Don't sweet talk me, Antilles," the general said amiably. "A wager was duly offered and accepted. I bet one hundred." He handed his credit chit to Janson.

"Thank you, sir." Janson took the token from Reiikan. "Uh, who should I put the money on, sir?"

"Put it all on the Corellian."

"But, sir, both of them are…" Janson stopped. Surely the general knew that both men were Corellian.

"I'm wagering it all on the Corellian." Reiikan's smile was sly.

"Yes, sir."

The general looked at the chrono over the bar. "Well, let's get this show going before it gets dark," he said.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's note: **I must grovel. I realized, after I had pushed the final key to upload the first chapter of this story, that I forgot to thank my betas, StatsGrandma57 and jublke, who make my stuff so much better. Thank you both!_

**Boys Will Be Boys**

_Chapter Two_

**Centuries before the Rebel Alliance established their base on Yavin 4, the Massassi built a huge tower in order to properly worship their god, the sun.** Apparently their god had not been appreciative of their efforts, for soon after the tower's completion, an enormous earthquake struck the moon, and the top third of the tower was so badly shaken that it now canted forty-five degrees to one side, leaving it resting precariously against one of the jungle's giant trees. More recently, the Rebels now in residence used the inconveniently tilted tower for X-wing training. Flying underneath the tower's top and around its base was called looping the tower and had become something of an audition for Rogue squadron. If a pilot successfully made it around the tower and tree with both themselves and their ship relatively unscathed, they were considered crazy enough to join the Rogues. Few pilots, even those who eventually became Rogues, were able to complete the loop without some damage to their ships, or to themselves. At least there had been no deaths from the stunt. Yet.

Yavin's sun had long since begun its slow descent toward the horizon as beings poured outdoors from the old stone temple that served as the base headquarters. They pounded through the jungle in order to find the best place to view the contest between Solo and Antilles. Wedge was still inside the temple doing the preflight on his X-wing while Han and Chewbacca were headed to the clearing where the _Millennium Falcon_ was berthed. Luke, his head now cleared by a combination of fresh air, exercise, and emptying his stomach of its contents, stood in the middle of the worn stone apron outside the temple. He couldn't decide if he should try to talk to Han or to Wedge. Now that he could think clearly, he could see how dangerous and stupid this competition really was. He needed to stop it before one of his friends, or both of them, were seriously injured or killed.

"Luke? Luke!"

Skywalker turned at the sound of Leia's voice. She ran up to him, panting a little with exertion and obvious concern.

"Luke, what's happening?" The princess looked around at the beings running in all directions. "Are we under some sort of attack?" she asked. "I was in the command center; I didn't see anything on any of the plots or scopes."

"No, it's worse."

"Worse?" Leia stared blankly back at him.

"Worse," he confirmed. "Han and Wedge got drunk and someone bet someone that Han couldn't loop the tower in the _Falcon. _So, Wedge is going to fly it, then Han is going to do it, too. Or try to."

"Han can't do that in a freighter. Nobody can," she objected.

Luke pulled Leia out of the way of a Rodian who was pelting past them to head for one of the jungle paths.

"I know that," he said. "But you know Han, he doesn't back down from anything."

"But he's not stupid." Several Rogue pilots ran past them, one yelling _Hurry up, Luke! _on the way by. "And he would never risk the _Falcon," _Leia reasoned.

"He was drunk, so was Wedge. So was I. And," Luke paused.

"And?"

"And I may have implied that Han was a coward," he finished morosely.

"You did what?" Leia shouted. "Of all the stupid…he's so stupid…you're so stupid…_men_ are _so stupid!_" she finished, her face set. "Someone has to stop this before they both get killed. Where's General Rieekan?"

"He has a hundred credit wager on the contest. Wait! Leia!" But Leia didn't hear him since she was already heading into the jungle toward the _Millennium Falcon. _Luke turned to the temple, hoping he could talk Wedge out of it before he took off, but the whine of an X-wing's engines told him he was too late.

When Leia darted out of the jungle into the clearing where the _Millennium Falcon_ stood, she feared she was too late as well. The ship's engines were already lit and in standby mode. She could see that the only thing keeping it from lifting off was the fact that pilot and copilot were standing at the top of the boarding ramp, yelling at each other at the top of their lungs.

"It's my ship!" Han shouted, "I know everything about her. I can do this."

Chewbacca waved his arms over his head and roared.

"I know you're the copilot for a good reason," Han continued, "but this has to be one on one! You heard Wedge. And no one calls me a coward!" Han's own arms came up to shoulder height in an infuriated shrug. "What did you say?" he bellowed into Chewie's face. "What do you mean I'm going to flatten myself into the side of the tower if you aren't there to help me?" His face reddened. "Listen, you overgrown furball, I can fly rings around anyone in this ship, without anyone's help!"

"Han! HAN!" Leia stormed up the ramp and caught one of Han's arms to get his attention.

"Yes, your Highness?" His mood already foul, Han's sarcasm was at full bore. "Have you come to wish me good luck? Or maybe you'd like to make a wager? I think Janson's taking the bets."

Leia's grip on his arm tightened. "I'm trying to stop you. You're going to get yourself killed if you do this."

Chewbacca grunted in agreement.

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" Han growled as he pulled his arm free of Leia's hands. "I'm a better pilot than Antilles ever will be." He looked down into the Princess's face. "I guess I'm just going to have to show you, Sweetheart." His eyes met hers, hard and unyielding. "I'm going to have to show everyone."

He looked up at the sound of X-wing engines. Wedge flew over the clearing, waggling his ship's s-foils tauntingly. With a hard shove, Han pushed Chewie clear of the doorway, stepped inside and slapped the palm switch, shutting the hatch. The startled Wookiee shouted an angry howl, then grabbed Leia's arm and propelled her down the ramp, which was already starting to retract. With a whoosh, the _Falcon_ lifted on its repulsors and became airborne.

In the now empty clearing, Leia and Chewie watched the ship as it headed toward the tower. Their hair blew wildly in the wake of the ship's departure.

With one hand, the Princess held her hair out of her face. "Good luck, flyboy," she said quietly.


	3. Chapter 3

**Boys Will Be Boys**

_Chapter Three_

**One of the Rogues' mechanics solicitously offered Leia a hand as she clambered up onto a fallen log.** She ignored the hand. She watched, disgusted, as Janson continued to take credits from beings, even as Wedge did circles high over the tower. In the distance she could hear the familiar whine of the _Millennium Falcon's _engines as Han approached. Chewbacca stood off to one side, in splendid isolation, muttering to himself and glaring into the sky.

"You didn't have any better luck than I did." It was a statement, not a question.

Leia turned to look at Luke, who had come up beside her. "He says he has to prove he's a good pilot," she said. "I don't know how getting himself killed is going to prove anything."

"No one's going to get killed, your Highness. At least I'm reasonably certain they won't." General Rieekan moved to stand near Luke. The Princess didn't find this particularly reassuring.

"How could you let this happen? How could you condone this?" Leia turned her wrath on the general, tottering a little on her perch.

"They needed this. The pilots, their crews, everyone. They lost so many friends with the Death Star, they need something to cheer for."

"No one's going to be cheering if someone else dies." Leia's face was somber.

"No one's going to die, they're both excellent pilots." Now the general's voice was confident.

Leia didn't respond; her eyes were focused on the tower that rose crazily over the jungle canopy.

Wedge flew the loop first. He'd done it before—with minimum damage to his fighter and no damage to his person—and, as he informed Solo over the comm, he wanted to show him how it was done. After completing his loop successfully, Wedge flew high above, waggling his foils again.

Leia sucked in a breath, and Chewie moaned softly, as the _Falcon _made her approach. Yavin's setting sun was to his stern, making it look very much like it had when he'd helped Luke destroy the Death Star. Leia knew that Han's ship was small for a freighter, but suddenly it seemed huge when she compared it to Wedge's X-wing, and to the small space between tower and tree where it was supposed to pass.

The crowd went silent.

Luke moved to stand next to Chewie, as if somehow the big Wookiee's experience with the _Falcon_ and all its unique abilities would make the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach go away. It didn't. To quote one of his two Corellian friends, Luke had a bad feeling about this.

Han revved his ship's engines and swooped in low, twisting the _Falcon _to the same angle as the tilted tower. Wedge brought his fighter in lower to watch the performance. Solo slipped the _Falcon_ through the slot, branches snapping on the big tree from the ship's powerful wake, but the ship never touched the trees. Antilles drifted a little closer.

The worst was over, Luke told himself, exhaling in relief. All Han had to do was circle around the backside of the tower and come up on the other side. But Luke still couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen. He caught sight of Leia, still on her perch. Her face, bleached white by the setting sun, was tense, and she clutched at Rieekan's hand. She could feel it too, Luke realized, whatever it was.

The _Falcon_ came around from the backside of the tower, but instead of swooping up for a victory loop as the cheering crowd expected, Han drove his ship down and back toward the unbalanced top of the tower. _He's going to try it again, the stupid fool!_ He was still trying to prove he wasn't a coward. Wedge was following close behind.

Han wasn't going to make it a second time, Luke knew, even as he watched helplessly. He didn't know if he should, he didn't know if he _could, _but Luke knew he _had_ to do _something_. Shutting his eyes, tuning out the rumbling moans coming from Chewbacca and the noisy gasps from the crowd, Luke reached out to the Force. In his mind, he pictured the small space between the tower and the tree growing larger, and the _Falcon _shrinking in size.

Luke hear a cry from the crowd and the harsh cracking sound of rock tumbling. _Han hadn't made it!_ Then he felt the ground buck underneath his feet. Earthquake? Earthquake! Could that be the Force's solution? Luke really wasn't sure. He felt himself fall against Chewie's furry side, and opened his eyes in time to see Leia slip from her log, only to be caught by the same mechanic whose help she had spurned a few minutes ago. Only then did Luke look up.

Han was pulling the _Falcon _straight up and away from the tumbling tower; Wedge was doing the same with his X-wing. With a discordant clang, the two ships brushed against one another before both spun dizzily out of sight. Moments later Luke heard two distinct sounds of ships hitting the jungle floor.

**Spectators ran frantically through the darkening jungle in the direction of where they had last seen their companions. **Luke noted that Leia was among those in the lead. Only Chewbacca, with his long legs, was far ahead of her. Thank the maker there had been no explosions, nor any sign of fire. Janson called out that he could see Wedge's downed X-wing, and the Rogues veered off in that direction. Seconds later, a relieved roar indicated that Chewie had found the _Falcon._

Luke stumbled into the small clearing the plummeting space ship had created, nearly knocking Leia over where she stood staring at it. The _Millennium Falcon_ appeared to be practically undamaged. Or at least as undamaged as that ship could look. There were branches and fern fronds caught in various crevices and around antennas, and it looked as if one of the landing struts had crumpled some, but that was all. The three of them stood bathed in the glow of the ship's running lights, waiting for the hatch to open and for Han Solo to come strutting out.

The ship remained eerily still.

With an agitated howl, Chewie strode over to the ship, slapped his palm against the security plate, and ran up the ramp almost before it came down. Leia ran forward to join him, then stopped halfway up the incline. She stood still, her petite form silhouetted in the light shining out from the ship's interior. With one hand to her mouth, Leia waited.

Luke was ready to go in himself when he finally heard the sound of Chewbacca's footsteps on the deckplating. Straining his ears, he could hear another set of footsteps, slow and unsteady.

Finally, the Wookiee appeared in the hatchway, supporting Han. There was blood running down the side of the pilot's face and one eye was swollen almost shut. However, he wore a proud, somewhat shaken smile on his face.

"I did it!" he crowed. "I told you I could do it." Then Han sagged against Chewbacca, who half-carried his friend away from his ship, muttering monotonously to himself about the stupidity of humans.

Luke swore he heard what sounded like a single sob come from the Princess, but when he turned to look at her, her face was carefully neutral. Only her hands, clenched tightly at her sides, gave her away.


	4. Chapter 4

_Last chapter! I just want to post a quick thank you here: to my two betas for making me look so good, and to all of you who read an reviewed, you make me feel so good!_

**Boys Will Be Boys**

_Chapter Four_

**Han Solo and Wedge Antilles sat at the bar in Yavin 4's Officer's club, each regarding the other critically. **Han sported a magnificent black eye and a thick scab on his right temple. Wedge wore a brace on his swollen left wrist and had the remains of a virulent purple bruise on his right cheek. Bacta could only do so much, after all.

"You look like a pirate," Wedge observed.

"I _am _a pirate."

"No, you're not." Wedge took a careful sip of his Corellian ale. "I don't like pirates, and for some inexplicable reason, I like you."

Han sipped his own Corellian ale. "Everybody likes me."

"No, they don't."

Picturing a certain petite princess, Han conceded the point with a careful nod of his head. If he moved too quickly, the horizon had an irritating habit of tilting sixty degrees to starboard.

"So, how bad was the damage to your X-wing?" Han took another careful pull at his drink.

"I'm hiding from my mechanic," Wedge explained. "And my C.O."

"Ah, the kid'll get over it. He doesn't hold a grudge" At least Han hoped Luke wouldn't hold a grudge. The last time they'd spoken, while Han had been at the base medcenter, the kid had been pretty worked up over the 'breathtaking stupidity of Corellians'. "I'm not sure about the mechanic, though," he continued, "they can be sensitive." Han looked carefully over his shoulder. Seated at a table a few meters away, Chewbacca glared balefully back at him. "I can't seem to get rid of mine," he said. Chewie bared his teeth. Han shrugged.

The two pilots drank together for a few minutes in a companionable silence.

"How's the _Falcon_?" Wedge asked him.

"It's been worse."

Both men cringed at the sound of a Wookiee snarl.

"He'll get over it," Wedge assured Han.

The server droid tottered over. "Can I get you gentles another round?" he asked.

Han nodded to the droid, then felt himself start to buckle under the pressure of a large, hairy paw on his shoulder. Chewie growled long and low in his throat.

"What's he saying?" Wedge asked curiously.

"Oh, he's just reminding me of what happened the last time I had a little too much to drink."

"When was that?" Antilles's face was the picture of innocence.

"Yesterday." Han's answering smile was wry. He turned to the server. "I don't need another drink, after all," he told it. Chewie went back to his seat.

The door to the club burst open and Wes Janson came barreling in, accompanied by Zev and Hobbie. Wes clapped Han and Wedge on the shoulder; both men grimaced in pain.

"So how are you two gentlebeings this fine day?" Wes asked cheerfully.

"You're in a good mood," Wedge observed.

"I'm a rich man!"

"How did that happen?" Han asked him. "You're a terrible sabacc player, so it couldn't be that."

"Nope. But since you two crashed so spectacularly yesterday, I determined that there really wasn't a winner, just two losers. So I get all the money!"

"That doesn't sound right," Wedge said.

"It isn't." General Rieekan stood behind them, accompanied by Princess Leia.

"Sir, there wasn't a winner in the wagering, or in the contest, since they both crashed." Janson's smile was positively seraphic, "so the house gets to keep the pot." Normally Janson wouldn't argue with a superior officer, but this had to do with money.

"But there was a winner," Rieekan corrected him, "me."

"Sir?" Wes was genuinely confused.

"As I recall—and I know there were plenty of witnesses—I said I put my money on the Corellian." The general's lips twitched.

"Yes, sir." Janson eyed the general suspiciously. He had a horrible feeling he knew where this was going, and that he wasn't going to like it.

"And you took my credits, didn't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"And it was pretty certain, no matter what happened, that a Corellian was going to come out on top, wasn't it Janson?"

"But, sir," Wes began, "they both—"

"In fact, both Corellians looped the tower, didn't they?" Rieekan persisted.

Han snorted. "Give it up, Janson, you've been had," he laughed. The laugh lines on his face made his swollen eye look monstrous.

"Give him the money, Wes," Wedge recommended.

"But, Wedge!"

"That's an order, Janson!"

Glaring at Antilles, Wes fished in his pockets and turned the credits over to Rieekan.

"Thank you, Janson, it's a pleasure doing business with you." The General turned on his heel and left the club. He neglected to mention that there would be a little extra in everyone's next paycheck.

"Hey, Wedge, can I borrow a little for a drink?" Janson whined. "I'll pay you back."

With a sigh, Wedge handed over his second bottle of ale. He probably shouldn't be drinking it anyway.

"You know, you shouldn't be drinking that," Leia said to both men, indicating the empty bottles in front of them. "Though, since you both seem to have congenital brain injuries, I suppose it couldn't do any more damage than you already seem to have," she added tartly.

Chewie barked out in agreement.

"Hey, your Worship, I don't need another nursemaid; one is bad enough!" Han waved his hand in the direction of the Wookiee. Chewie woofed a happy chuckle.

"Since it seems that neither one of you is intelligent enough to find your way out of bed in the morning, I'd think you'd take all the help you could get."

"Listen, sister, I don't need any help from anybody!"

"Of course you don't, Captain Solo."

Wedge Antilles's eyes traveled from the Princess's face, to Han Solo's, then back to the Princess's. Somewhere in the befuddled recesses of his brain a light brightened. _Oh, geez!_ he thought. _Really? Them?_

Wedge cleared his throat and slid off his stool. "Um, excuse me Princess, but I, uh, have some parts that need to be requisitioned. I'll just go off and do that." He left the two alone, departing with more speed than grace.

Leia stood staring at Han; Han stared back. "Is there something I can do for you, Princess?" he asked finally.

"That was a stupid stunt you pulled yesterday," she told him.

"Hey! Nobody tells me I'm not a good enough pilot."

"So you had to risk your neck to prove it?"

"I'm not a coward!" Han's voice rose to a shout.

"No one said you were!" The volume of Leia's voice matched Han's.

"Just because I'm not wearing your uniform, everyone thinks—" Han cut off when he realized the rest of the club had gone silent.

"No one thinks that," Leia said. She stopped shouting, but her voice was clear. "We appreciate what you do for the Alliance," she said formally.

"_We _appreciate?" Han asked. "Just wait a minute. Don't you mean…?"

"I'm glad you weren't badly hurt," Leia said, so softly only Han could hear her. She left without another word.

Voices suddenly filled the club.

Han watched her walk away, so stunned he didn't notice Chewie had come up behind him until the Wookiee barked a question.

"I have no idea what that was about," Han answered him honestly.

Chewie woofed out an observation.

"I don't know, Chewie, maybe she does." After a moment, the lop-sided grin appeared. "Of course she likes me," Han said. "Everybody likes me." Han stood up, careful to let the horizon right itself before he took a step. "C'mon, Chewie, let's go put the _Falcon_ back together. There's no telling when they're going to need us again."


End file.
